Breaking and Entering
by AKJ4
Summary: Despite the trembling in his hands due to adrenaline and concern, the devices yielded to his will and he heard the sharp click of the bolt sliding back. He inched the now unlocked door open slowly, a counter to the rapid cadence of his heart; his entire being wanted nothing more than to barge in and save her from what his writer's imagination was sure was certain jeopardy.


_A/N: This is in answer to a prompt on castlefanficprompts page on Tumblr. Please see end of story of the prompt._

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><p><strong>Breaking and Entering<strong>

He had this, he could do this. His heart pounded, a little sweat trickling from his hair line and down his brow. The thin instruments were fiddly in his large fingers and it took a couple of attempts to insert them into the lock. He glanced both ways down the corridor, ensuring he was alone before setting to work; the last thing he needed was a neighbour thinking he was breaking in and calling the cops. Okay, technically he was breaking into her apartment, but he preferred not to place a criminal labelling to his actions when he only had good intentions.

Despite the trembling in his hands due to adrenaline and concern, the devices yielded to his will and he heard the sharp click of the bolt sliding back. He inched the now unlocked door open slowly, a counter to the rapid cadence of his heart; his entire being wanted nothing more than to barge in and save her from what his writer's imagination was sure was certain jeopardy. However, shadowing a homicide detective had taught him a thing or two and so he paused to listen in the open doorway as he visually swept the room before him. The apartment was immaculate; and eclectic mix of ornaments, books and furniture appeared to sit as they should. There was no sign of a struggle and no noises to alert him to anything amiss. Gaining confidence as he explored, he called out her name.

"Beckett? Beckett? Oh!" he rounded into her bedroom, his hand on the doorframe to swing himself inwards, and stopped abruptly, his other hand smacking into the wall to prevent his forward momentum. There, before him, amidst a sea of crumpled tissues, was one very unimpressed looking detective.

"Castle! What the hell?" Only the words came out considerably less forcefully than they were intended, and quickly followed by a bout of coughing.

He dashed back out of the room only to return moments later brandishing a glass of cold water. She glared even as she accepted the proffered item, taking several sips of the soothing liquid before speaking.

"Again, Castle! What the hell?"

"I went into the precinct, you weren't there. So I came here."

"I phoned Montgomery!" she exclaimed, then frowned. "At least, I was going to… Urg!" she flopped back against the pillows. "I must've fallen asleep."

The air was a little stale; illness lingering in the room. And Beckett was as unkempt as he'd ever seen her: hair awry and a little greasy; skin pale, verging on grey; and bloodshot eyes rimmed with red and underlined with blue. Nevertheless he ventured further into the room. If he stopped to think about his actions, he would have realised just how deep his feelings ran for his partner. But he didn't and merely eyed her appraisingly. "You're sick."

"Ya think! Anyway," she shook her head, only to wince at the movement. "That does not explain what you're doing… In my bedroom!"

"I was worried; no one had heard from you. I texted and called; no reply. So I came round. You didn't answer the door."

"So you broke into my apartment!"

"I wouldn't use the phrase 'broke in'. I prefer 'creatively entered under a haze of concern'."

"Uh huh." Beckett was still completely unimpressed. However, the weight of what was increasingly apparent as flu served to lessen the severity of her glare. "And how exactly did you 'creatively enter'?"

"Erm… Norman Jessup _may_ have taught me how to pick locks. And I _may_ have picked the lock on your front door. But you know," he hurried on. "All under the worry for my partner. Having your back, and all that."

She eyed him in vague disbelief, but that quickly disappeared; this was Castle after all, these actions were no less unusual than anything else she'd seen him do. "When I'm well, I'm going to kick your ass for the stunt you pulled today. But right now, you can leave."

"No way, Beckett! What kind of partner would I be to leave you in peril?"

"No peril, Castle. Just a cold."

"Flu," he countered immediately. It was the first time he'd seen Kate ill, but somehow he knew she'd be one to downplay her condition. "For today, you have me at your beck and call. Get it; beck, Beckett!" He guffawed at his own poor joke, ignoring Kate's eyeroll, before continuing. "Now, what would you like; a personal pillow fluffer perhaps? Some of my delicious soup, guaranteed to speed you on down the road to recovery? Or would you prefer a story to ease you into a restful doze?"

"And you're sure none of those options involves you leaving?"

He merely grinned, and she just knew there was no way she was getting him out of her apartment. Closing her eyes and leaning back against the headboard, she gave in to the inevitable presence of Castle for the day. Sounds of clanging and banging reached her, and she recognised the noises as originating from her kitchen. Not too long later, Castle returned bearing a tray upon which rested: a plate of scrambled eggs; a stack of her DVDs; medicine; and a novel. With a sigh, she gathered the tissues from around her and dropped them into a bin by her bed. Then, she eased her aching form over to one side of the mattress, a clear invitation for Castle to settle next to her.

"If you catch anything, I'm not nursing you back to health," she grumped. But there was no malice in her words and he merely shrugged happily.

She flicked through the films he'd selected whilst she consumed her late breakfast. She was impressed at his choice; the DVDs before her were ones she had already been contemplating spending the day watching. They were films from her childhood, all of which she (and most other people) had watched numerous times. They required no concentration and she could happily doze on and off without missing any important plot points.

And that's just what they did. He even risked an arm around her shoulder partway through _Mary Poppins_. She reacted stiffly at first, before sagging against him as she didn't have the strength to hold that posture any longer. She dozed against his chest, her fingers curling adorably into the fabric of his shirt. It wasn't all cuddles and sleep however, as her cough got the better of her and she spent a good five minutes hacking and wheezing and gasping. Castle winced at the rattle in her chest with each breath, and he could do little more than hold her water within reach and steady the glass when she paused enough to take a drink. Eventually she quieted and collapsed once more against him. A hand ran soothingly up and down her arm as her pulse slowed. Exhaustion took over and her whole form sank heavily against him. He ceased his ministrations and merely held her as she fell into a thankfully peaceful slumber.

Castle shifted, careful not to wake his partner and sent a quick message of thanks to Norman Jessup. He quickly pocketed his phone with a glance down to ensure she was still sleeping; even in the midst of illness, he was sure Beckett could break his arm for exchanging friendly messages with a felon.

_**Fin**_

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><p><em>AN: In answer to an Anon prompt on the castlefanficprompts Tumblr page – 'Based off 2x09. Norman Jessup teaches Castle how to pick locks. One day, when Beckett doesn't show up for work, He breaks into her apartment thinking something's wrong only for her to have the flu.'_

_Many thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed!_


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